Deadslinger
by Tchami
Summary: Breathe. Be fast. Be efficient. And for all the lights in Hell, don't you ever miss, Ruby Rose. Cover art credits to Hiwonoafu.
1. Tools of the Trade

Deadslinger 1

Heavily based off of the indie game Dead Horizon. It's free, so pick it up if you want to know more.

What was some advice your old man Qrow taught you?

Breathe.

Be fast.

Be efficient.

 **Don't miss.**

Oh for Pete's sake, he taught you more than that didn't he?

"With a nice piece of iron like that, it'll only take you 1 bullet and a set of grit teeth to kill a man. If you can pull that trigger, ain't nothin' out there that can save you Ruby Rose."

His eyes flash, a fierce determination you never expected to see in your drunk uncle.

"So by the very lights of hell… don't you miss. Don't you dare miss, Ruby Rose."

Don't you miss now.

Don't you miss…


	2. Seared

Deadslinger 2

The flames. The heat is unbearable. The blood you felt on your cut cheek slowly burns away.

It's hot. It's damn hard to breathe. Old habits kick in, and your hand slips to your leather holster.

Wait! Not yet! It's too early… if you try and shoot now, the flames will just stop the bullet. Everyone else shot at her, and the bullets just melted away.

But you saw it. Traced it with your silver eyes. An opening. An ever so slight opening, where the flames parted. When she lifted her hand and sent flames through everyone's body. There wasn't even any remains left. Just specks of dried blood.

You'll only have one chance… one chance for a single shot.

But that's all you've ever needed, isn't it?

Wait for it. For once in your miserable life Rose, still yourself.

Breathe.

Be fast.

Be efficient.

She's about to pull! The flames ever so slightly move away from her and…

NOW! PULL BEFO- 


	3. First of Everything

Deadslinger 3

" **Pull girl! Pull and shoot!"**

And you did just that. Three trigger pulls, 3 cans with steaming holes in them

"Hah! Not bad, pretty straight shootin' that was. Course, cans can't shoot back. Put that thing away and listen up for a second."

A quick twirl and your iron slips back into your holster.

A bit scary how natural it all feels…

He flashes a grim look at you.

"Now, it ain't an easy thing, looking a man dead in his eyes and ending his life. Don't mean no offence, but I don't know if you got the stones for it, Rose."

But you did.

You had the stones for it.

…didn't you?

The wood creaks in your leaking room. You've got a barely lit candle, and a picture of your mother.

Well, at least what you THINK she looked like.

And so, you went downstairs.

Played some cards.

Gambled.

Lost a lot, a lot more than you could afford to lose. Threw the cards, down, and called the guy a cheat right in his face.

You gingerly rub your iron. No. Don't pull, never pull unless they pull. That makes you a murderer, which you aren't.

His face grows wide in anger, you see him reach for it!

You pulled. Much, much faster than he did.

One bullet through the stomach later, and he slumps down, a puddle of his piss and blood covering where he fell. Rambling on about how he got shot down, by a woman no less.

Killed your first man, that day. After this mess, they started calling you the "Blood and Piss Rose."

Of course, it didn't matter that you were there. That you know it never happened like that. You got one hell of a reputation after that.

Couple of weeks later, turns out his family was rich. Local law said it was self defense at first, then they had a Retrial. A retrial by proxy, right after you left.

That made you guilty in the eyes law. Six months to maybe a year, if it went easy. It was either that, or the rope.

 **It was only a matter of time till the bounty hunters came knocking.**


	4. Thrill of the ?

Deadslinger 4

You gave him the chance to walk away. Said it didn't need to go down like this.

Your gaze follows to his torso. A Redstar. Hunters, murderers, and feral dogs. One that won't let you go without a fight…

Breathe.

Be fast.

Be efficient.

 **By the lights of hell, don't you ever miss.**

Like the rich boy, he pulled slower. Much slower than you.

One bullet to his heart, one to the head.

You never, ever gunned down anyone that didn't make you. They always deserved it.

Right?

…Right?

They could've walked away, but they didn't. That's on them.

Plus, that Redstar was famous. Hundred Dead Ren. Liked to bring in anyone he caught alive, but didn't exactly mind turning them dead either. Not exactly subtle, nor clean either.

Killing him took your reputation from just a quick gunslinger, to infamous. Quick drawing someone way after they unholster is something else. Doing it on a renowned bounty hunter though?

Turns out, the Redstars look after their own. They didn't exactly give you much choice. They only cared that your heart was beating. That you were alive.

 **Quick! There's no time! Gun them down or they'll do it to you first!**

And so you did. Three shots. Three dead men, one with a minigun.

One through the stomach. One in the head. One in the heart.

You never noticed how shaky your arm was. Was that the nerves shaking you, or the sudden rush of the kill?

No. You're not a murderer. You don't enjoy gunning down random people. Only if they deserved it, and these guys definitely deserved it. It was you or them.

Killing Hundred Dead Ren was one thing, but people see. When people see? They talk. So they talked, a lot about you. How you slapped leather so fast their hearts didn't even beat once before you gunned them all down.

That's the type of story that turns people into legends. Soon, nicknames like One Shot Rose, Deadshot Ruby, Harvester, Red Cloaked Deadeye, Deadslinger.

Deadslinger…?

Soon, all your drinks were free. Folks liked hearing stories about that time you put a round in a mans head.

And watched his brains splatter onto the floor. Refusing to acknowledge the fact that you shook after all of them, but you never could understand why. Was it the nerves? Was it the thrill?

Turns out when you become a legend, people talk. Which means people want you.

Alley scum, thugs, gunslingers.

Fresh Lawmen that are trying to make a name for themselves.

Blondie says you killed five men, but right now he's treading on making that number 6.

He cocks his arm cannon, his robotic eye glimmering with tension. Civilians are scattered everywhere, not daring to go between the infamous Deadslinger and a lawman.

Breathe.

Be quick.

Be efficient.

 **And for the love of all you hold dear, Ruby Rose, don't you miss.**

You didn't miss, but he did.

But he was faster.

Your heart pounded, legs almost gave out when you heard a new bang that wasn't yours.

Breathe.

Be efficient.

Be fast.

You failed the last one. You never forgot how you shook. This time though, when you heard it?

Why did you feel relief…?


	5. Redemption

Deadslinger 5

You shot down a sheriff.

In his own town. Civilians were watching.

They saw you gun down a lawman in his own town.

Everyone single one of them saw, and each one of them were terrified.

Terrified. Angry. Confused.

All of those emotions were directed solely at you.

Most people would blink an eye, hesitate, or miss after they pull the trigger.

You won't. The Deadslinger Rose can't afford to.

So, what's after this? The local populace are terrified of you. They whisper The Deadslinger Rose like it's some second coming of the boogeyman. Bounty hunter? The Redstars hate you.

Nobody with a brain would ever hire you to guard a trade wagon, hell even housekeeping was out the door.

So, there was liquor. A lot of it. Not that you paid for it that much, nobody would dare look you in the eye and force you to pay.

Your muted, silver eyes.

You see them stare at you, because they know exactly who you are.

The Deadslinger Rose. Gunned down a total of 6 men without batting an eye. Slapped leather before they even took a breath. Rumors say she sees gunfights in slow motion. That her silver eyes glow when she takes a life.

You were legendary.

You certainly didn't feel like that at all.

Who could you go back to? Uncle Qrow? Dead.

Mom? Dead.

Dad? No clue where he is, or if he's even alive in the first place.

You've got nothing left. Nothing to live for. No riches to your name, only a headcount and some titles.

That's when you heard it.

The screams. The gunshots. The explosions and gusts of flame bursting out of the town. You saw her, gunning down everyone. Women. Children. It didn't matter. They all either got gunned down or burnt alive.

Figured she was coming for you, that everyone else was simply caught in the crossfire.

One bottle of cheap brandy down your gullet. One touch to your leather holster. One set of grit teeth.

All enough to kill someone.

You're so tired.

So, so very tired. You hate yourself. You hate the woman you've become. You hate the thrill you feel after taking someone's life. You hate that your only solace in your miserable existence is drinking yourself to death.

But right now?

This is your redemption.

Breathe.

Be fast.

Be efficient.

 **And so, here you are.**

Against something you've never gone up against.

The flames are swirling around her. This is it. Your redemption.

The one moment in your entire pitiful existence, where pulling that trigger can actually mean something.

Just wait. Wait for the flames to part, when she unholsters, that's when the flames part. Your one and only shot.

Breathe.

Be fast.

Be efficient.

Don't miss.

Don't you fucking miss, Ruby Rose.


End file.
